This blog is not fitting for children, the super religious, people that do not curse, and those that object to partial nudity, primal urges, fornication, bodily functions, and selective morality.
I'm just a single gal and a rowdy individual that loves to laugh. I'm accidentally sexy and Confidently Awesome. I kiss and tell! This is my life according to me.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Little, Rotten, Four-Letter Words

I call my boyfriend's children
"My Little Rottens." It's not because they are bad, it's just an
expression. I liken them to the three little girls in Despicable Me, except
they all aren't girls. One is a magical sea monkey child. I love those
Little Rottens!

I guess it is coincidental and
convenient that when I was growing up my Mom would always wish upon me a child
that was three times as rotten as I am, errr rewind, was. Yes, was. I was
rotten. As in, I'm not rotten any more. Nope, no rotten here.

Sometimes my brothers and I used to
call each other some very special four-letter words. I remember them fondly as
terms of endearment; it was all in love. Sometimes we'd utter four-letter words
just for the heck of it. On some very rare and embarrassing occasions Mom would
catch us venting a bad word. Part of our punishment was to define it as we knew
it, the slang terminology of the word. It really was the worst punishment; she
should be proud of herself for that. Imagine if someone were to perhaps get
caught saying a word that can be abbreviated "Mo Fo," try explaining
that to your Mom. After the definition we would be lectured and forced to eat
soap, liquid Dial soap. I hate Dial!

I stopped at the boyfriend's house
after work this evening to pick up my stuff from the weekend. One of his
children, Phaedra, was looking at her Pinterest account. The child showed me a
pictorial that she had repinned. It was a silly slam against Kristen Stewart of
Twilight fame. However, the quip used the words "bestiality" and
"necrophilia." I read the cartoon and although it was funny I managed
not to crack a smile. His daughter was looking for approval. I pursed my lips,
took a deep breath, and slightly shook my head up and down. I was wrestling
with my next question. I pointed to the words and asked, "Do you know what
those two words mean?"

The repinned pictorial that led to
the definitions. In the Twilight Saga Kristen Stewart's character is in
love with a werewolf, thus the bestiality. She is also in love with a vampire,
where necrophilia comes in because a vampire is dead (undead?).

She answered innocently,
"No."

I told her that those words are
somewhat bad words and if she is going to post them on her Pinterest account
than she should know what they mean. She said, "Okay."

I explained the words as simply as I
could. And fast, very, very, very quickly, "Bestiality means people that
like to have sex with animals. And, necrophilia means people that like to have
sex with dead people."

The poor girl had a look of horror
on her face. I felt whoozie. It got hot. My hands were sweating. I thought I
was going to get punished. I imagined the pain of my Dad's fingers clenching my
jaw open, the faint scent of liquid Dial soap, and the cool, fluid, orange goop
being squeezed into my mouth.

I guess my Mom's curse came somewhat
true, except I didn't get a child three times as rotten as I once was. No, what
I got was much worse. I get to continue defining inappropriate words in
uncomfortable situations. I've got that covered, no problem. But, if my
Mom hears my language will you perhaps tell her I already
took a bite out of a bar of soap, just for good measure?